


Settle Down

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Castiel in skirts, Chubby Dean, Dean eats a brownie while Cas blows him, Domestic, Genderfluid Castiel, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Sex On The Kitchen Table, Stoner Castiel, Stoner Dean, food kink kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6102805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas turns towards him with a grin when Dean plops down. Beer. Pizza. Venture Brothers. Perfect Friday night to break in their new apartment together. Apparently, Cas has something special in store too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Settle Down

Dean cracks open two cold beers from the fridge and navigates the maze of boxes, some still taped closed and some half unpacked, into the tiny living room where Cas is waiting on the couch for him. It’s the same mustard yellow and dung brown plaid couch that Dean had in his old apartment, a bit of an eye sore but comfy. There’s no coffee table, but a few milk crates do fine to hold the pizza boxes just delivered, also the tv across the room, and some tipped on their sides serve as shelves for DVD’s.

Cas turns towards him with a grin when Dean plops down. Beer. Pizza. Venture Brothers. Perfect Friday night to break in their new apartment together. Apparently, Cas has something special in store too.

The box at Cas’ feet is half spilled across the thin-worn carpet, random kitsch and sex toys and it was probably Cas’ box of favorite things. He holds up his stash box triumphantly.

“Found it.”

“Hell yes.”

Passing over a beer bottle and clinking them together, Dean takes a swig and sets it down on the floor to grab a slice of pizza.

“Bowl?”

“Yeah… I think I have some new filters in here somewhere…”

Dean watches Cas rummaging through his small pink painted stash box that has hello kitty stickers on it, picking out the pretty blue swirled glass piece and searching for something else.

“Dude, s’fine.”

Broc is screaming on the TV screen and murdering a bunch of hench men while Cas packs the bowl and Dean scarfs down at least three pieces of pizza by the time he’s done. Good thing they’d ordered two. Cas’ hippy skirt, the one with the rows of shiny sequins along the hems that are all falling out but he loves it anyway, is rucked up around his thighs as he folds his legs under himself on the couch to light up. Swiping greasy hands over his jeans, Dean takes the pipe from him and pulls a long drag while Cas sips his beer.

Two bowls, two pizzas, a twelve pack, and a season finale later and Cas is crawling onto Dean’s lap, tugging his skirt up and pulling down Dean’s jeans. Cross faded with a nice thrumming under his skin and that taffy pull feel to moving that makes Dean giggle, he wraps his arms around Cas and kisses whatever his mouth lands on. Cas is a lot more coordinated when he’s high. Little shit could talk Dean’s ear off too. But he’s warm and comfortable, long fingered hands wrapping around both their cocks, hot mouth on Dean’s neck as they defile the couch – really it had been defiled plenty of times before – in their new apartment.

It’s a perfect Friday night.

-

They had practically lived with each other when Cas was still in the dorms and Dean had his own shitty studio apartment, so it’s not like they’re spending a whole lot more time together anyway. But it’s somehow completely different. Dean doesn’t have to wake up to remind Cas to get to class, they don’t have to coordinate who’s going to stay where and when, who’s driving. He simply gets to wake up next to his boyfriend on their bed and rub one out against that tight ass or the ridge of his hip first thing in the morning. And then cook breakfast for him. And kiss him goodbye. And make dinner for him. They might be a little glued together. Whatever.

They had made a habit of smoking together fairly regularly before, but now, it’s kind of an automatic Friday night thing. Which is perfect, because Friday is when Dean goes grocery shopping after he gets off from work at the garage. Because let’s face it, Cas took a job at Walmart when he graduated and it’ll take a while for him to find a good job, so ordering pizza every Friday is a no go.

Dean usually cooks dinner when Cas gets home, they watch shitty movies or read, break out the bong Cas unearthed from another box, and then have snacks to sate their munchies which kind of turns into a second dinner. It’s fine. 

The thing about Cas, though, he’s always fucking horny as a rabbit and Dean’s made peace with that, but when Cas is high he can’t keep his hands off Dean. It’s kind of flattering. It also makes it hard to bake.

The kitchen is warm and it smells like heaven with brownies in the oven and Dean is moaning like a street corner whore bent over the old wood table. Jeans around his ankles and Cas’ face buried between his legs, he melts boneless and face down against the table as he holds on for dear life. Everything feels wonderful, the smooth cool wood under flushed skin, the rasp of Cas’ stubble on the insides of his thighs and scraping his ass, that long wet tongue wiggling deep into him. Dean has no sense of time or place as he lets the light loose feeling unravel through him.

He goes easy peasy as Cas turns him around and hefts him on the table, thrusts into him slow and sweet. Dean’s hands flop useless at his sides but Cas knows what he needs and leans over to slot their fingers together so Dean can squeeze his hands. Hold on. It’s another perfect Friday.

Until the oven timer beeps.

Or has it been beeping for a while.

“Cas, Cas get offa me.”

“Mmmm.”

“Brownies, dude.”

Shoving in and grinding his wide hips against Dean’s ass, Cas doesn’t budge.

“They’re gonna burn,” Dean starts whining pitifully and Cas has mercy on him. Doesn’t let him up, just twists around and their kitchen is small enough for him to reach the oven door handle, so Cas grabs a towel, flips the oven open, pulls out the brownies, and the tip of his cock is still barely nestled inside Dean. Dean holds his breath and tries not to squirm. Twisting his torso back around, Cas smiles down at him and leans in to kiss open mouthed and sloppy, thrusting back in.

The oven is still on, door open, and the kitchen is sweltering by the time they’re done, Dean sliding on the table with sweat but Cas has wrung two orgasms out of him so it’s good. The brownies came out crisp on the edges and gooey in the center. Dean figures he can clean up the mess on the kitchen chair he’s leaking Cas’ come onto when they sit down and eat the whole goddam tray right afterward.

-

Dean sifts through the cupboards, stumbling a little over his own feet as Cas perches on the kitchen table with his pipe, watching. Completely naked. Dean has gotten used to that, it’s kind of awesome. Especially when Cas does yoga in the mornings.

“Man, I could have sworn we had everything for lasagna.”

Has Dean checked this cupboard before? He swears that he’s seen the same goddam can of chick peas ten times but then when he shuts the door he can’t remember what’s in it.

Cas hums on the table. “What are you missing?”

“Noodles.”

“You could make … lasagna spaghetti? We have spaghetti noodles, don’t we?”

“That is not the same. There is no substituting for good lasagna.”

“It’s all pasta and sauce.”

“Totally not the same, Cas.”

Shuffling forlornly over to the table and nudging in between Cas’ thighs, Dean pulls him in for a kiss, Cas passing smoke between their mouths and Dean breathes deep, feeling a little better. No, fuck that, he’s still pissed. He wants some goddam lasagna.

Dean’s not a heathen and he still wears clothes around the apartment, so his cell phone is tucked in to his jeans pockets. Pulling it out, swaying a little but Cas has a hand on his hip, Dean dials up Sam. The air in the kitchen is thick, pungent and spicy.

“Dean?”

“Sammy!”

“Dude, it’s almost midnight.”

“It’s also Friday, don’t tell me you’re asleep yet.”

“No, but that’s not the point.”

“I got a favor to ask.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“No, I’m missing lasagna noodles.”

There’s a pause. He can practically see Sam’s bitchface.

“You really need to stop calling me on Friday.”

“Cooome ooon, you’re not doing anything, we’ll share.”

Dean hears his brother heave a sigh on the other end of the line but Sam says, “Fine, I’ll be there in ten.”

Sam’s such a great brother. Dean’ll make sure to send him home with extra lasagna tomorrow morning when he rolls off the couch hungover and curses Dean for being his brother.

“Cas, you gotta put clothes on, Sammy’s gonna drive us to the store.”

Cas grins wide, smoke curling out his nostrils. “Excellent. Although I still say we should experiment with spaghetti lasagna. But I like smoking with your brother.”

-

Flopping back on the bed, Dean grunts as he tries to wiggle his jeans higher. It‘s Friday night and he should be getting baked with Cas and baking treats, but no, they’re going out. Dean likes his friends, Ash is hilarious and great to drink with, Aaron is a weird little dude but smart, Benny is a great guy period, and of course he loves spending time with Sam. But he’s gotten used to just him and Cas on Fridays. Maybe they are turning a little too reclusive.

Aaron keeps hinting the three of them should hang out and smoke together. Dean has flat out told him that Cas can’t keep his clothes on and they can’t keep their hands off each other. That only seems to make Aaron more interested, which, Dean needs to think about a little bit. He already knows what Cas’ answer would be.

“Just try another pair Dean,” Cas sighs, frustrated, as he picks out jewelry.

“These are my best pair.”

“They obviously don’t fit.”

“You callin’ me fat?”

Cas glares at him.

Dean groans and shoves his pants back down to mid thigh, heaving in a breath and damn it feels good to breathe again. He pats his stomach, definitely jigglier, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember when it got like that. Cas crawls over him on the bed, spreading warm hands over his belly and squeezing. It feels awesome, but it looks gross, and seriously since when did he put on that weight.

“I’m not calling you fat. I’m saying your pants don’t fit. Putting on a few pounds doesn’t automatically make you fat.”

Dean whines and rolls his hips up against Cas, naked under his knee length pleated skirt, and complains, “I don’t wanna shop for more pants.”

“We can always shop for panties while we’re out too.” Cas is smirking at him, still kneading at his belly.

“When did this happen?”

“Do you even know how much we eat on Fridays?”

“It’s not that bad. And why aren’t you getting fat?”

Lifting up his tank top, Cas plucked at the waist of his skirt. “Elastic.”

“Oooh.”

Sliding his hands up still firm, toned thighs, Dean curves around Cas’ hips to squeeze his ass and that had a little more give, up over his belly then, and yeah, there was a little more softness there too.

Patting Dean’s hip, Cas pushes off the bed. “Come on, find another pair. We can smoke when we get home and you can bake something delicious for me and we’ll forget about this nonsense and stay up to watch the sunrise.”

Shoving his too small jeans down, Dean threw them in the corner. “Sounds like a plan.”

-

So there’s this thing Dean learned how to make called slutty brownies. Basically you take a big brownie pan, smoosh a layer of chocolate chip cookie dough along the bottom, layer oreo cookies on top of that, then pour brownie batter over the whole things. It’s a fucking orgasm for your mouth. Especially when it’s still warm out of the over with a scoop of vanilla ice cream melting on top. (or like, the whole tub of ice cream)

It’s so good Dean can’t stop eating it even though Cas is going down on his dick like it tastes even better. It doesn’t. Don’t get Dean wrong, he loves sucking dick and he loves tasting Cas, but nothing beats this glorious cookie-brownie concoction.

Robot Chicken is still playing on the TV and Dean’s sunk comfortably into the sag in the middle of the sofa but damn the cushion material is scratchy on his bare ass. He thinks about moving. He thinks about setting aside his brownies and hauling Cas up onto his lap. He thinks about a lot of things. But ultimately the texture of the melted ice cream - soft brownie and crunchy cookie - in his mouth is just amazing, and Cas’ mouth is so wet Dean thinks his balls are getting soaked.

“Babe, c’mere, I’m gonna eat all this without you if you don’t get some…”

Tugging weakly at Cas’ hair, Cas pops off his dick with mouth hanging open and spit trickling out, eyes glazed and red shot. Dean picks a tasty looking morsel out of the pan – man, he didn’t even get plates – and passes it right into Cas’ mouth from his fingers. Cas hums around him, sucks his fingers down and licks at them. His pretty pink mouth purses and works over Dean, ice cream dripping onto his stomach. Dean passes a few more bites over to Cas who nibbles straight out of his hand contentedly, both of Cas’ hands still resting on his parted thighs, looking up at him from the floor with blue eyes Dean could drown in.

Cas eventually goes back to sucking his cock, mouth cold from the ice cream. Dean shifts lower on the couch, more towards the edge, and spreads his legs a little further as he pushes one hand through Cas’ hair and keeps eating the brownies with the other. Man, whatever Cas had brought home to smoke tonight was potent. They’d just finished a bowl when the slutty brownies were done, but Cas had only tried a bite before he was sinking to his knees.

Not that it’s a bad thing. Dean praises him with murmured ‘so good’ and ‘yeah sweetheart’ while Cas lazily bobs up and down, slow, erratic. Dean’s stomach has even more of a slope, definition of his hips lost, and when he curls forward on a hard suck there’s a few deep rolls. Dean can’t bring himself to give a shit because these cookie-brownies are what gluttony is for and Cas’ mouth knows wicked wicked things as it pulls off, sucks down his balls, and licks lower.

All couples put on a little weight when they settle down together, after all.


End file.
